Rest Brave Knight
by ATudorRose
Summary: One-shot. Balian comes out of battle badly injured and is surprised to find out who is taking care of him. A look at a moment of tenderness and care between to people in love.


**Just a thought that come to mind after watching the film. Hope you guys like it! Reviews are much appreciated, so pretty please!**

She entered the dark room and closed the door behind her. The light emanating from her small candle cast dancing shadows across the form of the man lying on a long bed in the corner. She lit the candles on the table by the bed, dimly illuminating the small stone room and set down a bowl of warm water, pulling a linen cloth from a pocket in her skirt. Dragging her chair up, she gently folded down the blankets, exposing his bare chest. It was a horrible sight. He was covered in dirt and grime, dried and fresh blood that was still sitting atop open wounds. As the cold air rushed over him he awoke from his uneasy sleep, gasping in pain as he tried to sit up and discovered he couldn't.

"Easy, easy my lord. The battle is won and all is well. Rest brave knight," She whispered as she gently pushed him back down onto the pillows. Lying back, he closed his eyes and screwed his face up against the pain, trying to remain silent. She dipped the cloth in the bowl of water, and as she brushed it over his forehead, his rigid body relaxed at the touch. He gradually opened his eyes and watched her as she carried on cleaning his face, washing away the dirt and grime that was the result of almost four days of constant warfare. With a final stroke, she finished his face and moved on to his neck and shoulders. He admired her diligence and expert touch, the unflinching expression on her face as she rid him of blood; his own as well as the blood of countless others. Her eyes expressed nothing but honest care and concern; they shone in the glinting candlelight. She pulled the cloth lower over his muscled upper body, sailing over the ridges and scratches created by his armor. Each cut and gash received equal attention and soon they were all clean and free of dirt, already starting to heal. She produced a new cloth to dry his skin and then helped him to turn over onto his front so she was able to access his back. As soon as he was settled on his stomach, she tied his hair up and set to work once more. There was an enormous gash across his back, from right shoulder all the way to left hip. It had clearly been created by the strike of a sword and had it not been for the chain mail, it probably would have severed his spine and killed him instantly. She cleaned around it, wiping everything else away before she turned to the wound.

As careful and gently as possible, she set about removing the dirt while murmuring comforting words every time the hardened muscles in his back rippled in pain. It took her almost an hour to fully clean the gruesome gash. When she was finally done and it was all bandaged up properly, his face was drenched in sweat from the exertion of not screaming out in pain. His suffering touched her heart but as she had no more clean cloth or water the most she could do now was wipe his brow with a corner of her apron. At that moment, another servant stuck their head in the door and asked if they had any needs.

"Some more cloth and cool water, if you please."

"Yes miss."

"And some more candles."

"Right away."

The servant girl backed out the door and within the quarter hour she returned with the requested items. Moving the dirtied, bloodied cloth and water to the floor, she placed the new clean supplies on the table and lit a few more candles; the light in the room had begun to falter and die out. She cooled down his face and neck periodically, whilst cleaning the room as he slept fitfully. When he awoke once more, she hurried over to his bedside as he tried to flip over.

"Sir, please stay still a little while longer, it will be best for your back. You must give it some time to heal."

"Ah, very well," he sighed as she began to wipe down his face and neck once more.

"Will you kneel on the ground so I may see your face?" he asked quietly.

"Certainly my lord." She moved her chair out of the way and kneeled by the bed, settling herself at eye level with the man lying in it. His eyes were a dark brown that shone in the flickering light. She kept hers downcast, hoping to avoid being captured in the depths of his troubled eyes.

"Look at me."

This caught her off guard.

"Thank you for all that you have done for me. You have shown more care and devotion than I could have possibly hoped for or deserved."

"More than you deserved, my lord?" I believe you ought to be treated as a king, for you have saved the city and all in it that we hold dear."

"One man cannot win a battle. The most he may do is inspire his men."

"My lord-"

"Balian. I wish for you to call me by my name."

"But sir-"

"No, we are equals. I wished you to kneel so we may regard each other on an even plane; looking neither up nor down at the other. I am a blacksmith made a knight in place of a father whom I barely knew. If anyone need pay respects, it is I to you – Princess Sibylla."


End file.
